


Cold is the Night

by escritoireazul



Category: Baby-Sitters Club - Ann M. Martin, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Bisexual Female Character, Crossover, F/F, First Kiss, Gen, POV Female Character, POV First Person, POV Third Person, Yuletide 2012, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 21:37:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escritoireazul/pseuds/escritoireazul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things are changing in Dawn's life, and she's not really sure what to make of it. (She runs and she runs, and the moon is so bright.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold is the Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pie_is_good](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pie_is_good/gifts).



> Set post-BSC and California Diaries; takes a lot of liberties with how werewolves work in BtVS and the BtVS timeline (which is fitting considering the timeline of the BSC).

_December 27, 2012_

0.

She runs, and she runs, and she runs.

When she wakes in bed, every muscle aches and she doesn’t remember a thing, but she is smiling.

1.

I woke late in the morning, and only half an hour of stretching made me stop hurting. I hadn’t been so sore when I got off the plane on Christmas day, but maybe this was left over from that. It didn’t really matter, though. It’d been months since I saw my mom, step-dad, and step-sister, and I wanted to make the best of every minute we had together.

_December 28, 2012_

0.

She wakes early a couple days after Christmas, breathing hard in the darkness of her bedroom. She shivers, and curls her toes against the plush carpet. (When they renovated the barn back in eighth grade, she asked for heavy, thick carpet just for this reason, so her feet wouldn’t get so cold when she came to visit in the winter. She doesn’t use her bedroom in Stoneybrook enough to have worn it down much, and it is as soft and warm as when it was first installed.) She sleeps in long sleeve t-shirts in the winter and flannel pants, but her nose feels frozen and her cheek aches.

There’s a smudge on her window, like her face has been pressed against it.

Why in the world is she staring at the window?

_How_ is she standing there? She’s never sleepwalked a night in her life.

There’s no moonlight, the clouds are too heavy. She rubs her hands up and down her arms briskly, trying to warm up. The bottoms of her flannel pants are damp, and the window’s cracked open. She pushes on it, trying to be quiet, but it sticks. It takes both hands and sharp shove down to get it to snap shut, and she expects to hear her mom or step-father wake in their big master bedroom upstairs, but all is quiet, from them, and from her step-sister’s and brother’s rooms on the first floor near hers. (They all share a bathroom, which was pretty gross until Jeff started aiming better and putting the seat down when he’s done.)

A big yawn opens her mouth so wide her ears pop. When she turns back to the bed, the blue light of her alarm clock, normally dull enough not to disturb her rest, hurts her eyes. It’s exactly twenty-two minutes past five a.m., and she feels like she should be doing – something, somewhere, or she was just a moment before.

She just has no idea what.

1.

“Hey, sleepy head.” Mary Anne Spier, my step-sister, smiled brightly at me as I shuffled across the kitchen to the fridge. By the time I poured myself a glass of all natural organic orange juice, the smile was gone. Instead she watched me, her brown eyes serious behind her bronze glasses. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine,” I mumbled, and flopped into the chair across from her. She was done eating – it was after noon, and she was one of those gross morning people who got up early even during vacation. A mug of hot tea sat in front of her, still steaming, and the smell of the sugar she’d added, plus the bite of the herbs underneath, made my nose wrinkle. “Just tired.”

“Still? You’ve been asleep all day!”

I nodded, and yawned. My jaw cracked a little, and I rubbed at it. It was sore today. _I_ was sore, all over, like I was bruised down to my bones, and I had no idea why.

“You didn’t hear me fall out of bed last night, did you?” I asked, swallowing another yawn, then gulped half my orange juice in one drink.

Mary Anne carefully placed her bookmark in the thick book she was reading (I glanced at the cover; _Wuthering Heights_ , so really, she was rereading it yet again. I didn’t understand how she could still do that. I loved to read too, mysteries and ghost stories, but after we started high school, once I finished something, I could never go back.)

“I didn’t. Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”

I shrugged. “I’m just a little sore today. Must be the cold.”

“You blame everything on the cold weather.” She giggled. “Besides, it’s not _that_ cold this year. We haven’t even had a real snow, just a couple inches here and there.”

I shuddered drastically for effect, but I _was_ cold, even as I joked. I’d never handled winter well, but this felt different. It got beneath my skin, and I swore I could feel ice running in my blood.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Can I get you more juice? Maybe some nice hot tea instead?” Mary Anne’s voice was soft and gentle, but I was tired of her asking how I was. She did this every time I came to visit, though normally it tapered off after the first day. I knew she just wanted to make sure I was happy here, because she missed me. I missed her, too, she was one of my best friends as well as my step-sister, but I just couldn’t take her asking me one more time.

“I’m fine!” I barked, and shoved my glass away. The last of my juice slopped up the side of the glass, but it didn’t spill. “God, Mary Anne, back off!”

Mary Anne leaned back, eyes wide, eyebrows up. “I’m _so_ sorry I worry about you and care how you’re feeling.” She pressed her lips together tightly, and I knew if I didn’t do something fast, we’d fight the rest of my visit. She was gentle and kind, slow to anger, but once you got her temper up, she could hold a grudge like nobody’s business.

“Sorry.” I slumped forward, rubbing my face. “Sorry,” I said again, mumbling it into my palms, then dropped my hands into my lap. “Look, I feel awful, I didn’t mean that.”

She sniffed and looked away.

“Really, sis, I’m sorry.”

That always got to her; she shrugged, but smiled at me a little. I almost felt bad, but really, I meant it when I called her sister, so it wasn’t like I was really manipulating her or anything, just because I knew how to get to her. That’s what friends – what family – know.

I dropped my head onto my arms on the table, then twisted until I could look at her. “Maybe I’m coming down with something. Little kids are germ factories, I bet I caught something at that job right before I flew out here.”

“I thought you weren’t baby-sitting anymore.” Mary Anne narrowed her eyes at me. I refrained from rolling mine; clearly she was still a little pissed, but whatever, probably I deserved it.

“I’m not. But Jill had an emergency and needed someone to take one of her jobs.”

“Jill? Jill from We Love Kids Club?” At my nod, she frowned and wrapped her fingers around her mug, but didn’t take a drink. “You haven’t talked about her in years. Why’d she call you?”

“Well, she tried everyone else first, I guess, but it was so close to Christmas that no one was free. Almost everyone’s working retail now. The health food store’s closed until after the new year, though, so I didn’t mind picking up a little extra cash. Strange little kid. Nice, but -- _strange_.”

“Yeah?” She perked up, smiling at me again. Mary Anne loved kids. She still baby-sat a lot, even though the club here had broken up back at the end of eighth grade. “Another walking disaster?”

“No, nothing like Jackie.” I snickered. “Jordy was pretty quiet. He read a lot of comic books, all these horror comics about vampires and zombies and other monsters. Didn’t talk much, just watched me. That was a little weird.”

And then, when he’d fallen asleep on the couch and I went to wake him, he’d snapped at me, making this snarling sound I’d never heard a kid make before, and caught the tip of my little finger between his teeth. He woke up fast after that, and was so apologetic I felt bad for him.

I didn’t even think he’d broken the skin until after I’d sent him up to bed. When I started doing the dishes we’d used for dinner, the hot water stung my finger, and I realize there was just a tiny little cut, a drop of blood.

I shook off those thoughts. Weird little kid or not, I’d had fun, and his parents gave me a big tip when they came home twenty minutes late. (They called first, too. Lots of people aren’t so considerate.)

“He was sniffling a lot,” I went on. “Must have been coming down with something. No wonder he didn’t want to play any games.”

“Well I hope you’re feeling better before Monday night. Abby’s New Year’s Eve party is going to be great.”

I grabbed my glass and chugged the rest of my orange juice. “Better up my vitamin c and get lots of sleep before then.”

Mary Anne giggled. “Yeah, you’ve got the sleep thing down. I was thinking about getting some lunch, are you hungry?”

My stomach gurgled as if she’d prompted it. I didn’t feel hungry, exactly, but I should be. I should eat. I hadn’t had any food since dinner.

“As long as we stay inside where it’s warm, sure.”

“What, is it winter? Are you cold? I didn’t realize.” I swatted at her as she got up and headed to the fridge, glad the tension was gone between us. I still felt weird, sore and chilled and uncomfortable, but I was with my Connecticut family, and we had plenty of time with our friends, and life was pretty good.

Whatever this was, it was just a bug, and it would pass soon.

2.

I got way ahead of myself. You don’t know who I am, or who my friends are, or why I have to label my Connecticut family. I’m Dawn Read Schafer, and I’m seventeen years old. I’ll be eighteen in February. I’m a senior in high school at Vista High School back in Palo City, which is near Anaheim. I lived in sunny southern California until I was twelve.

That’s when my parents got divorced, and Mom moved us all the way across the country to cold, gray, snowy Stoneybrook, Connecticut, where she grew up and where her parents, my Granny and Pop-Pop, still lived. My younger brother, Jeff, came with us, but he was miserable in Connecticut, and went back to live with Dad not too long after.

(Those months we were split up, boys against girls, half on one side of the country, half on the other, were really hard. I felt pulled between them, not because they were making me choose, but because I wanted to be in both places at once. I love Mom, and I love Dad, and I love Jeff, even though he can be a real pain in the butt sometimes. I was glad the divorce meant they’d stop fighting, but I didn’t want us to be all split up, either.)

We moved in the middle of the school year, and I was worried I wouldn’t be able to make any friends. Plus it was January, and it was _cold_. But almost right away I met Mary Anne Spier. Yes, the same Mary Anne who is my step-sister. See, we became friends right away, and one day, looking through old yearbooks, we found out her dad, Richard, and my mom had been high school sweethearts. Granny and Pop-Pop didn’t think he was good enough for Mom, because his father was a mailman and Granny and Pop-Pop are pretty well off, which is really gross, even though I love my grandparents a lot, so they sent Mom away for college. That’s when she met Dad and fell in love.

Meanwhile, Richard met Mary Anne’s mom, they got married, and had Mary Anne. Then the story gets really sad, because Mary Anne’s mom died when she was little. She doesn’t even remember her. Richard sent her away to her grandparents until he thought he could take care of her on his own, and he ended up being really strict to try to prove he was the perfect dad.

Once we figured out Mom and Richard knew each other ( _luved_ each other, as my friend Stacey used to say), we thought it would be fun to reintroduce them, see if maybe we could get them back together. Obviously, we did it, though they took things sloooooooooooow, dating non-exclusively for awhile, and then exclusively, and then finally they decided to get married. That was awesome, especially since Jeff had moved back to California already by then. It wasn’t just Mom and me anymore, rattling around in our big old farmhouse.

(Of course, living together wasn’t that easy. Mom’s absent-minded and messy, Richard is anal about cleanliness and organization. Mom hates cats, Mary Anne had a kitten, Tigger. Being best friends was very different from being step-sisters. But eventually, we made it work.)

Before all that, though, Mary Anne introduced me to her friends, Stacey McGill, Claudia Kishi, and her first best friend (I was her second), Kristy Thomas. Together, the four of them were the Baby-sitters Club, and eventually they asked me to join, too.

They called the club Kristy’s Great Idea, and it was pretty awesome. Call one number, reach multiple baby-sitters, and someone was almost always available. (There were more than five members, most of the time, but the other four were the ones I talked to the most. Them and Abby Stevenson, the one hosting the great New Year’s Eve party Mary Anne was so excited about. She joined after I left, so I don’t know her as well as the others, but I’m getting ahead of myself again.)

I stayed in Stoneybrook until eighth grade, but I started missing Dad and Jeff more and more, plus my friends out there. My first best friend, before Mary Anne, was Sunny Winslow, but I had other good friends, too. Sunny even started up her own version of the Baby-sitters Club, the We <3 Kids Club, which was a more casual (more focused on health food at meetings instead of sweets) group.

Then Sunny’s mom was diagnosed with cancer, and I couldn’t stay away any longer. Her parents were like my second set of parents, and I wanted to be there for Sunny. It was a really difficult decision, and I worried a lot about hurting Mom and Mary Anne, but in the end, I had to do what I thought was best, and that was moving back to California. Permanently.

(Being there for Sunny before and after her mom died was harder than I expected. I had to keep reminding myself that she was going through a terrible thing, and I shouldn’t judge her for how she reacted, not everyone dealt with stress, not everyone mourned, the same way. I wasn’t always great at not judging her, though I think I’ve gotten better. We’re still friends, thankfully.)

I still come back to visit as often as I can. Most summers, I’m back for at least a couple weeks, if not longer, and I always come back around Christmas. (Generally, I spend Christmas Eve with my dad and his new wife, Carol, and my half-sister, Grace, and then Jeff and I fly to Connecticut on Christmas Day and stay through the new year.) Mary Anne’s come out a couple times for spring break, and last year, Sunny and I, and our friends Ducky, Maggie, and Amalia, came out here for a week. (Ducky’s in college, but his spring break coincided with ours. You may be thinking it’s surprising that Mary Anne’s dad let a strange guy come spend a week with his daughter and step-daughter, but a, Mom’s really calmed him down some, and b, Ducky’s gay, and not interested in girls.)

This was the last Christmas I knew we’d all be together, though. Next year, Mary Anne and I would both be in college. Probably we would both be able to come home (I’m lucky to have two homes, I know), but there were no guarantees. I’d be at USC in Los Angeles, and Mary Anne was going to NYU. (It’s always been her dream to live in New York City, but NYU was such a big school, I was a little worried for her.) Our friends in Stoneybrook were splitting up; Kristy was off to play softball at Michigan, and Stacey hadn’t decided where she was going yet. Claudia was still taking art classes and crossing her fingers that she’d get into art school somewhere even though her grades are terrible. Abby was coming out to play soccer at Santa Clara University in California, but I didn’t know how often we’d be able to see each other. (California’s a pretty big state. It’s not like Los Angeles and San Francisco are right next to each other, like a lot of people back east think.)

Another important thing to know about me is that I am an individual. I am really into being healthy and am a vegetarian; I eat foods that are good for me even when everyone else is chowing down on junk and I don’t care how much anyone teases. I believe in recycling and taking care of the planet and alternate sources of energy. I love to surf. I have really, really long pale blond hair (it’s down to my thighs, it’s so long), and blue eyes. I prefer comfort to fashion, and wear a lot of tank tops and t-shirts and jean skirts and flip-flops. (And lots and lots of flannel, during the winter.)

One final thing. I’m bisexual, which means I like girls and I like guys, and I have a horrible crush on Stacey McGill, who is possibly the most boy-crazy person I’ve ever met. I’ve never told her, because I’ve read all sorts of books, I know the story. Never fall for the straight girl. She'll just lead to heartache.

_December 29, 2012_

0.

This time it’s the echo of a noise that wakes Dawn, something she doesn’t recognize, something long and lonely, hanging on the wind. Her toes are so cold she can’t feel them, but still she comes awake slowly.

She’s standing in the yard, staring up at the sky. There’s a bit of wind, and bits of snow are blown off the roof and into her face. The snow on the ground has drifted, piling up until it almost covers her feet. They’ve only got a couple inches, but it is cold, and the bite of the wind down her throat, in her lungs, brings her fully awake.

Dawn spins, staring at the house. Her bedroom window is open, and there are footprints in the snow under it. The moon is big and full and bright, and she can see prints that lead straight to her, but weird ones, blurred, that lead away from the house, out toward the farmland that spreads away from them.

What is happening to her? She starts to shake.

But even as the thought comes, another follows immediately. She must have heard something, come out to check. Not the smartest thing to do, not in the winter, and not when she’s such a genre-savvy person (blond girls who have sex die early in horror movies, she knows), but it makes sense. 

It makes sense, and that’s what she clings to, even as she scrambles to get back into her room.

_December 30, 2012_

1.

“That was Claudia,” Mary Anne said, shoving her phone back into her pocket. “Janine’s leaving town tomorrow to spend New Year’s Eve with her college friends, so they’re doing family time tonight, and she can’t come over.”

I yawned and pulled the afghan tighter around me. I hadn’t gotten back to sleep last night – this morning really – and now exhaustion laid down on me like a weight.

“And Kristy is taking Karen and Andrew to dinner and the arcade, since they just got into town from Chicago. So that just leaves Logan coming over for movie night?” I made a face. I liked Logan okay (well, when he and Mary Anne were getting along, I did; sometimes he was way too bossy), but I wasn’t feeling like being a third wheel.

“Stacey’s coming too,” Mary Anne rushed to reassure me. I blanched a little; she didn’t know about my crush, and now I had no good way to get out of this. The only thing worse than being a third wheel would be a sham of a double date.

“So.” I sighed. “What are we watching?”

“Well, we haven’t watched Love Actually yet this year, so I think that’s my choice.” Mary Anne did love her holiday traditions, and that was one of them. “You get to choose the other.”

I perked up a little at that. Before I left, I’d exchanged gifts with my California friends, and Amalia had given me a Gay Movie Extravaganza pack, putting together some of our favorite LGBTQ movies plus some new ones. I’d shoved them in my suitcase, but hadn’t watched all the new ones yet. If I had to watch Logan and Mary Anne be all gooey together, and sit around trying not to stare at my crush, at the very least I could watch something sweet and funny with characters who were a little bit like me.

“I’ve got just the thing,” I said, and grinned. “What about food?”

“I’m setting up for mini-pizzas. I thought we could each build our own. That way you and Stacey can have all the veggies you want, and I can have chicken and bacon, and Logan--”

“Logan can eat everything.”

She beamed. “Yes, that’s true. I’m also making chocolate chip cookies, but Stacey said she’d bring some sort of healthy dessert.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Thanks for asking her to do that.”

“She volunteered.” Mary Anne smiled at me, and my heartbeat sped up. She couldn’t know how I felt, could she? She was my best friend, and my step-sister, and she knew me very, very well.

“I’m going to go take a hot shower,” I said, leaving the afghan on the couch. “I’m freezing.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked. “I know it’s always sunny in California, and you’re not a winter girl, but this is getting ridiculous. You must be getting sick. Maybe we should cancel tonight.” She frowned and reached for her phone.

“No, no,” I said, even though it was the perfect excuse to get out of what was sure to be an uncomfortable night. “I’ll feel better after my shower.” I forced a smile for her. “This will be fun.”

2.

It was not fun. It was awkward and uncomfortable and more than a little bit heartbreaking, but it was not fun.

Stacey and Logan both showed up ten minutes early, which made me laugh a little. Back when we were all club members (Logan had been an associate member, which basically meant he got to baby-sit and hang out with us when he wanted, but didn’t have all the responsibilities the rest of us did), Kristy drilled it into our heads that showing up one second late was the end of the world. Some of that stuck, I guess.

Stacey looked gorgeous and sophisticated in a sleeveless dark blue dress with a high halter neck and a full skirt. It made her blue eyes look brighter. Loops of silver necklaces circled her throat, adding a bright gleam to the front of the dress, and her tights sparkled with glitter. She carried a silver pashmina, too, but left it tossed casually on the arm of the couch when we all headed into the kitchen to finish the pizzas.

She smelled so good, her perfume sweet and a little musky. We sat next to each other on the couch; every time she shifted her weight, her arm bumped against mine. When she shook back her golden curls, I caught more of her scent.

It took everything I had not to lean over and bury my face into the side of her neck, pressing kisses to the warm, smooth skin there.

Stacey caught me watching her, and my cheeks heated. She smiled, a dimple appearing in her cheek, and my breath caught a little. _Why_ did she have to look at me like that? I knew she was a flirt, but she wasn’t cruel about it.

She didn’t know, I reassured myself. She’s not being mean. She’s just being her normal friendly self. It’s winter break and we’re having a good time. Stop reading anything into it. 

_Stop._

“This is cute,” Mary Anne said, and I jerked my head back toward the television. We were only about twenty minutes into _Imagine Me & You_, but she was right, it _was_ cute, if a little heterocentric for a lesbian movie. (Amalia promised me it had a happy ending, and I trusted her. I wished there was something fun and sweet about teen lesbians; the last one I watched had been fantastic right up until it broke my heart.) “Good choice, Dawn.”

She and Logan were cuddled together on the loveseat, but other than a couple short kisses, and his arm around her shoulders, they weren’t being too lovey dovey. I appreciated that a lot, considering how distracted I already was by Stacey.

Who very, very casually shifted her hand a little closer to me and brushed her pinky along mine.

I sucked in a fast, shuddery breath. It took everything I had not to turn and stare at her, mouth hanging open.

Especially when she slid her hand over mine. Her palm was cool, her skin soft and smooth. She tickled the back of my hand lightly with her nails, making me shiver, then laced our fingers together.

Finally, I forced myself to glance over at her. As far as I could tell, she was watching the movie intently, but she was smiling just a little, the corner of her mouth turned up. She squeezed my hand once, gently, and I bit my lip so I wouldn’t cheer.

I wanted to ask her a million questions – since when did she like girls? Since when did she like _me_? – and I really wanted to kiss her, but all of that could wait until we were alone. A beautiful girl was holding my hand and watching a cute lesbian romance with me.

All was right in my world.

3.

My phone woke me about three a.m. I’d only gone to bed at two after holding hands with Stacey most of the night (and when I tried to talk to her about it, she smiled, kissed my cheek, and asked me over for dinner tomorrow night, which felt way, way too much like a date), so I was groggy as I smacked at it, then finally grabbed it from my nightstand. I squinted at the display; a California number, but not one I recognized.

Adrenaline shot through me. What if something had happened to Dad or Carol or Gracie?

“Hello?”

“I’m sorry to call so late.” The voice was familiar, but I didn’t really recognize it. “This is Dawn Schafer?”

“Yeah. What’s wrong? Is everything okay with my dad?”

There was a quiet sigh. “This is Maureen Osbourne. You were our sitter last week, for our son, Jordy.”

I frowned, squinting against the bright light of my cell phone in the darkness. “Yes,” I said at last, not sure what else she wanted from me.

“He said he bit you. Did he draw blood?”

“Yeah, just a little scratch. I’m fine.” Then I stopped. If she was calling this late, maybe he wasn’t. “Is everything okay with Jordy?”

“He’s fine.” She was quiet a moment. “I spoke with Jill, she said you were in Connecticut for the holidays. My nephew is traveling near you. Would you meet with him?”

“I’m not really interested in dating right now,” I said, surprised. It was a lie, but I didn't feel like getting into it with her. I'd come out to all four of my parents sophomore year when I figured out I wasn't straight, but I didn't have to tell everyone everything about me. 

“No, no, nothing like that. It’s just – there’s something you should know, about Jordy, and Daniel, well, Jordy bit him too. He can explain it better in person than I can over the phone. Can I give him your number? He can be in Stoneybrook tomorrow afternoon.”

This was weird. Really, really weird, and pretty mysterious.

Of course that piqued my interest. I loved mysteries. (My friends and I used to solve them all the time, too, when we weren't baby-sitting and sometimes when we were. I still helped out the friends I’d made at the police station whenever I could.)

“Sure, why not. We can get coffee.” I sat up, more awake now. “Is Jordy sick?”

“Not exactly.” She sighed again. “Let Daniel explain it tomorrow, and then we’ll talk when you get back, if you want.”

Stranger and stranger, but if I couldn’t have real ghost stories, a nice twisty mystery would be a fun way to end the year.

“Have him call me. I’ll listen to what he has to say,” I promised.

“I will. And Dawn?” She was quiet a moment. “Thank you.”

The phone went silent. I yawned, dropped it back on my nightstand, and flipped my pillow over to its cool sides, then snuggled into them, pulling my blankets up to my chin. What a strange call, but before I could spend much time contemplating it, sleep pulled me down.

0.

_December 31, 2012_

When she meets the other wolf, she smells him, and she _knows_ , down inside where her human thoughts can’t quite reach.


End file.
